


Take You Down Another Level (Get You Dancing With the Devil)

by zahrawrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: I'm Bad At Tagging, Insecure Dean, Kissing, M/M, Sex, Stripper Dean, Stripping, Supportive Castiel, Supportive Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:52:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5402060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zahrawrites/pseuds/zahrawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine your OTP is going through some financial troubles so they both decide to grab a second job to make ends meet. A excitedly tells B that they've finally been offered a position as a receptionist at a nightclub. B congratulates them but is nervous about it because they haven't told A yet that their other job was actually being a stripper at the same nightclub that A will work at.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take You Down Another Level (Get You Dancing With the Devil)

Dean groans when he wakes to an empty bed. Reluctantly opening one eye, he catches sight of a scrap of paper on his bedside table.

_Got a last minute interview this morning. See you when I get back._

_Love you._

_-C_

"Love you too, Cas." Dean murmurs, dragging his sleep-heavy limbs up and into the shower. A cup of strong, black coffee later and he's sitting at the kitchen counter flipping idly through the Jobs section. He and Cas had mutually come to the decision that it would be better for their financial future if they each got second jobs.

Dean had his. Asking an old friend for a new favour got him a part-time slot as a stripper at the new nightclub on the High Street, Angelz and Demonz. As patronizing and cringe-worthy as the name was, the interior was highly professional.

He just hasn't has the chance to tell Cas yet.

Gabriel had teased him mercilessly when Dean had approached him about it. Cas knew that he and Gabriel had history, he'd just never asked _what kind_ of history it was. In actual fact, he’d known Gabe longer than he’d known Cas.

There wasn't much to stripping. It was like riding a bike. In his youth, he'd done a little to scrape together enough to provide for Sam, and he didn't particularly want to revisit that part of his life, but he was good at it and it wasn’t long-term so, what the hell.

The apartment door clicks and Dean’s drawn out of his thoughts and into reality. "How'd it go?" he calls out.

"You know my brother, Gabriel?" Cas begins, walking into the kitchen with a look of muted excitement on his face. Dean looks up at the name.

"...Yeah?" He confirms apprehensively.

"He got me a job at his new club!" Cas reveals, smile blowing up until he’s got crinkles around his eyes. "It's only a desk job - reception - but it's good enough." He adds, then holds up his palms in defence. "And before you say anything, I know the kind of establishment he runs, but its extremely professional and I'm nowhere near the workers anyway."

Dean tries not to let his expression falter, just replies, "That's… great!" He walks around the kitchen counter and pulls Cas into a hug, giving him the chance to hide his face.

Dean hadn’t told Cas about his past, not _that_ much into his past anyway – and Cas had never pushed.

"So…" Dean pulls back. "How’re we celebrating?"

 

-X-x-X-

 

Dean’s nervous. Two days have passed and he hasn’t plucked up the courage to tell Cas. His boyfriend starts work tomorrow, Friday – the same day that Dean is due to make an appearance.

His phone rings while Sam and Cas are in the living room discussing one of Sam’s cases. He excuses himself to the bedroom and hits ‘Accept’.

"I see you didn’t tell him then." comes Gabriel’s accusatory voice.

"No shit, Sherlock. How the hell am I supposed to tell him about this? And why’d you give him the job when you gave me one too?" Dean barks.

"Hey!" he sounds offended. "He’s my brother, I would never turn him away… also I'd _love_ to see you working together." He adds and Dean wants to punch him in his smug little face.

"Gabe, I’m not fucking around. I can’t- I’m not ready to tell him about this – about everything."  

"Don’t worry about it; you won’t have to tell him a thing. He’s nowhere near the workers; he works out front on reception. You can come in through the back." Gabriel tries to reassure him. Dean can hear the muffled music in the background; he must be in his office.

"C’mon Deano, don’t bail on me now, you’re one of my best." Gabriel speaks again when Dean doesn’t say anything.

He closes his eyes, presses the heel of his palm against his eyelid and sighs resignedly. "Okay, fine. See you tomorrow, Gabe." He ends the call before Gabriel can reply.

He’ll make it work.

He has to.

 

-X-x-X-

 

Cas leaves for work at around eleven in the morning – something about Gabe having to get him settled in and shown around, but Dean presses him to the doorframe, getting in a kiss that might just be the last one. Cas pulls away breathless and a little confused at all the affection. Dean just smiles and lets him go. He feels like shit. He shouldn’t be lying to Cas like this. That was his past, he had to survive, make ends meet… it’s not like Cas would leave him over it, would he?

He shakes his head. This is stupid. He’s driving himself crazy.

By the time he’s due to leave in the evening, he’s cleaned the apartment, rearranged all their DVD’s and books, and even given Baby a wipe down.

He makes sure to go in the back way. Gabe’s waiting for him, lips wrapped around a lollipop as usual.

"Thought you weren’t gonna show, man."

"Gotta pay the bills, Gabe." He replies solemnly.

The other man doesn’t say anything, just pats him on the back sympathetically and gets hurried away by someone with a clipboard.  

Dean gets changed, gets oiled up by one of the more enthusiastic assistants, and shakes out his nerves. Cas isn’t even going to see this. He’ll do his set, collect his tips and be off stage before he knows it.  

The music starts to play and he knows that’s his cue. He rolls his neck, steps out of the room and into position behind the curtain. His breathing quickens like it does before every performance.

It’s a show he has to put on.

Interact with the audience.

Hope there’s a bride – or groom – with cash to spare on their last night of _freedom_.

 

-X-x-X-

 

Castiel didn’t think there was much to it. He’s had reception jobs before and this one wasn’t all that much different.

Gabe called him in early to show him around the place while it was still mostly empty – it got busier in the evenings.

"You sure you gonna be okay?" his brother had asked.

Castiel had replied with a _bitch please_ look and answered the desk phone when it rang. Gabriel had just left him to it. But now there’s a delivery due – Castiel didn’t ask what, he isn’t sure he wants to know – but it needs Gabe’s signature and the man in question is nowhere to be found. The unimpressed delivery guy with the clipboard is standing at the desk staring at Castiel like he’s an idiot.

Castiel’s tried Gabe’s phone three times but decides to go in search of him. He tells Hannah – his co-worker – where he’s going. She nods and goes back to her phone call.

"If you wouldn’t mind taking a seat, I’ll find him for you." He holds his hand out for the clipboard and pen, and the man hands it over while rolling his eyes and goes to drop into one of the fancy leather chairs.

Castiel fights the irritation that builds up inside him.

Gabe’s not in his office, nor is he in any of the lounges, which only leaves the main showroom. He isn’t supposed to venture this far – under strict instructions from Gabriel that he should be manning the desk at all times – but it’s not his fault that Gabe’s disappeared.

The music gets louder as he approaches. It’s something sultry with a bass heavy enough that he can feel vibrating in his chest. Pulling back the curtain reveals a lot of screaming from the female patrons. He ignores them in favor of stepping further in the room – keeping close to the back so as not to interfere with the performance. There’s a bar at the far end but Gabe’s not there either.

There’s a renewed holler from male voices that catches Castiel’s attention.

He turns to the stage.

 

-X-x-X-

 

The music melds and changes, Dean can feel the bass thump heavily in his chest. He drops carefully off the stage. This is what most people come to see, the part where it gets personal. While he’s on stage, he tries to pick out the ones he thinks he’ll get the most Benjamin’s from – the suits, the hen parties, sometimes there’s the occasional big spender that doesn’t catch his attention but he never misses them when they’re waving the greens at him.

Tonight, he thinks it’s time for the stag party sat right in middle. The groom is holding his head in his hands in shame while his friends call Dean over. He’s pretty sure most of them are already shitfaced.

The bouncers stationed in the room move closer as he approaches them, all swaying hips and flirtatious winks. He slides a hand around the guy’s shoulders as he walks around him. The guy’s looking up at Dean in slight awe, jaw dropped open a little, and eyes wide, like it’s his birthday and Christmas all rolled into one.

Dean glances up to make eye contact with the bouncers who nod their assurance before he enthusiastically throws a leg over the guy’s lap and straddles him. The guy’s jaw drops open even further and his hands grip the sides of the chair like he’s stopping himself from touching.

"What’s your name?" Dean asks, voice purposely low, throwing his arms over the guy’s shoulders and leaning in to catch his earlobe between his teeth.

"Aaron." He chokes out, breath hitching, and the grip on the chair tightening.

" _Aaron_." Dean purrs, grinding his hips down a little. The friction makes the guy gasp.

Aaron nods and swallows hard. "W-what’s your name?" he asks courageously.

Dean smirks and laughs quietly while rolling his hips and Aaron almost moans. "Whatever you want it to be." drips off his tongue easily. They’re all given fake names, his is Michael, but if pretends to want whatever they want, he earns more.

"Tell you what." Dean starts. "You stick around-" he makes sure to glance down at Aaron’s lips like he wants to kiss him and then leans in to speak beside his ear. "-and I’ll take you to the Champagne Room later." He promises, voice dripping sticky, sweet honey and sin. He punctuates his offer with a playful bite to warm skin and leans back to make sure Aaron’s understood.

The look on his face is quite funny actually. He’s pretty sure the guy would’ve signed over his soul if Dean would’ve asked nicely. Aaron nods frantically.

Dean smirks again and leans in like he’s going to kiss him and Aaron chases it but Dean pauses, lips almost touching and whispers, " _Good boy_." with a seductive roll of his hips.

Then, he makes the mistake of looking over Aaron’s shoulder.

His heart plummets straight into the floor because _there’s Cas_ clutching a clipboard to his chest, red cheeked and wide eyed.  

They don’t do anything except stare at each other for a tense few seconds before Cas practically runs out of the room.

Dean tries to recover quickly because he’s still on show after all and Aaron’s hands are close to touching his thighs in concern because he’s noticed something’s off. Methodically, Dean gets off his lap, collects the extra notes and makes his way back to stage. He bows and saunters back through behind the curtain – cheering and hollering chasing his back. When he reaches his room, he changes and collapses into the chair.

Gabriel makes an appearance a few seconds later, apologies tumbling from his mouth.

"I’m sorry, Dean, I had no idea he would come this far. I’ll talk-"

"It’s fine, Gabe." He doesn’t know why he says that because this is _furthest_ thing from fine. He should go after Cas and explain but he promised Aaron a session in the Champagne Room and it’s a chance to make extra money that doesn’t come around too often.

"Oh, I got another customer for the Champagne Room later." He says to Gabe, who nods slowly, unsure of why he’s not being punched into the floor.

"That’s… great. But if you wanna go home, I can get someone else to do-"

"No. I promised him and I- I need the money." Dean rubs at the back of his neck.

Gabriel is silent for a while. "You sure?"

"I am."

Gabriel nods and leaves him alone. He’s got about half an hour before his session with Aaron. He doesn’t really want to go home – not when he doesn’t expect Cas to be there.

 

-X-x-X-

 

Dean was right to single out Aaron. It got him a couple extra hundred bucks in his back pocket – not that he had a back pocket while he was earning it but it’s still hard earned money.

He shoves it into his inside jacket pocket. Gabriel gives him a sympathetic look on his way out and he raises a hand in goodbye.

The drive home is torturous and he can’t stop thinking about whether or not Cas will be there. He has a small inkling of hope that he will be, but that inkling is accompanied by the thought that Cas might want to know more about Dean’s past. He runs a hand through his hair nervously and it comes away sticky with gel. He grimaces and turns into his street. Parking outside, he kills the engine and looks up at their apartment. There are no lights on and Dean’s heart quickens.

He takes a calming breath (it doesn’t work) and makes his way inside, watching the numbers in the elevator increase slowly. He pushes the key into the lock, turns it and hears the click.

Pushing it open slowly, he walks into a living room drowning in darkness. It’s eerily empty, as is the adjoining kitchen. He glances at the time – it’s almost one in the morning. He closes the door, shrugs off his jacket and tosses his keys into the bowl.

His keys clink against another pair.

 _Cas’_ pair.

Slipping off his boots, he speed walks straight to their bedroom and creaks open the door slowly to seek confirmation of his hopes.

His gaze falls on Castiel’s sleeping form and he exhales in relief. He slips his jeans and shirt off and crawls in behind the sleeping man.

 

-X-x-X-

 

Dean wakes to an empty bed.

Blinking blearily, he stumbles into the kitchen ready to pour himself a cup of strong, black coffee. To his surprise, Cas is standing at the stove… making pancakes?

He must hear Dean come in because he turns around with a smile, says, "Good morning", kisses him chastely and pushes a mug of sweet, milky coffee into his hands.

"Have a seat. I’m making pancakes."

Dean’s either confused or this is a weird dream because this is _not_ what he expected. He looks down at the swirls in his cup and takes a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

He’s sure that Castiel notes that he hasn’t spoken yet.

"Um…" he starts, because they should talk about yesterday, _right?_

"Here you go." Castiel interrupts and places a plate piled with pancakes in front of him. Cas sits opposite him and pours honey over his own pile.

Dean watches him. He doesn’t seem affected. It’s like yesterday didn’t even happen. There’s no difference in his behavior.

"Cas, are we gonna talk about yesterday?" he blurts out, and for a second it’s like the world stops spinning. Castiel’s utensils scrape noisily against the plate and his smile falters.

"Depends." He looks up at Dean. His gaze is open and earnest. "Would _you_ like to talk about it?"

Dean is silent and that’s enough of an answer for Cas.

"Exactly." Then, he smiles but it doesn’t look right. "You tell me when you’re ready… or not. It’s entirely up to you."

Dean nods and takes a gulp from his blistering coffee. It burns it's way down his throat.

Castiel goes to work.

So does Dean, a few hours later.

They don't see each other at the club.

 

-X-x-X-

"I'm gonna tell him."

"It's your decision."

"Yeah? Then why doesn't it feel like that?" Dean asks his brother over the phone. Bobby's given him a break and he wants to hear what Sam has to say.

"Look, Dean, it's _your_ life, it's _your_ past. You did what _you_ had to do for us to survive and I'm always gonna be grateful for that. Cas is right. This _is_ your decision."

"I just- I feel like I owe him, you know? I wanna tell him, but what if..." He falters, rubs a hand across his forehead. "What if this is a deal breaker for him? To find out that I had to- to practically _sell myself_ to live? What if he never wants to touch me again? What if he thinks I'm- I'm _dirty_?" Dean's voice breaks.

Sam sighs. "Dean, Cas isn't like that and you know it. He wouldn't do that. Besides, you won't know until you talk to him. Find out what's going on inside his head."

"He hasn't kissed me in three days." Dean kicks a small rock and it clatters under the car he's standing beside in Bobby's junkyard.

"Because he's giving you space. _Jesus_ , do I have to run your relationship for you?"

"Shut up." Dean retorts.

"Great comeback. Just talk to him, Dean." Someone calls Sam's name in the background. "Look, I gotta go, court's back in session. Promise me you'll talk to him?"

Dean groans petulantly.

" _Dean_."

"Fine."

Satisfied, Sam hangs up.

Dean goes back to work reluctantly. He tries to build up the courage to talk to Cas tonight because they're both off work.

-X-x-X-

 

Cas is watching a documentary on bees when Dean gets home at 6:37pm - he glances at the kitchen clock.

"Hey."

"Hey." Dean replies.

"How was work?"

"Same as usual. We got a new client, wants me to restore a '66 Camaro."

Castiel notes the new information with a nod.

They lapse into silence for a while before Dean speaks.

"Cas, can we um... talk?"

"Of course." He mutes the television, turns to face Dean and pats the empty space on the couch next to him.

Dean takes the offered seat.

"So, um-" he clears his throat. "I've been thinking about what you said and I wanna tell you."

Castiel nods. "Okay." He pulls one leg up onto the couch to face Dean fully, with one arm resting along its back. His posture is open and he looks fully engaged.  Dean, on the other hand, tucks his hands between his legs and hunches over slightly, an automatic self-protective position.

"I couldn't tell you about the job because we've been so busy lately but I'll completely understand if you wanna break up with me and-"

"Why would I want to break up with you?"

Dean looks at him in confusion. "B-because of the whole-" he gestures with one hand. "-stripping thing."

Castiel looks unfazed. "Dean, my brother _owns_ a strip club, why would you think your job would change anything?"

Dean looks at him like the answer is obvious. "Maybe I'm not explaining this properly." He takes a breath. "I asked Gabe for the job... _because I'm good at it_." He says pointedly and hopes that it answers the question.

Castiel doesn't say anything, just waits for Dean to carry on.

"Lemme start at the beginning." He tries instead.

"That would be helpful." Castiel says, a little involuntary snark slipping into his tone. Dean ignores it.

"So, I've told you about when me and Sam were younger and Dad fucked off?"

Castiel nods. "You have."

He looks at Cas and wonders how to make him understand why he won't want him.

"When we were short of money, I used to hit up bars. A lot. I learned how to hustle money from pool but the thing was... I always used to get these old, creepy ass guys commenting on how…" he pauses and looks away, shame heating his cheeks. "…on how pretty I was."

He shrugs to try and brush off the uncomfortable memory that creeps up.

"And after a while, it got me thinkin' that... maybe I could make some money off of it."

He wrings his fingers together nervously, and sits back against the couch, hands still in his lap.  "I figured that maybe... maybe these guys would come watch me... y'know..." He trails off.

"Then I met Gabe, he was a fuckin' weird, smart ass that really got on my nerves, but he was the first decent guy to give me a shot."

He huffs a laugh. "I'm surprised I didn't know you back then." He looks up and smiles at Cas.

His boyfriend mirrors his smile.

"I got out when dad came back, hauled us off to uncle Bobby's, then pissed off again. I got out and I haven't been back to that shit until now."

He shrugs again. "I was good at it so when money got tight, I went back. Gabe was glad to have me."

He rubs at the back of his neck and huffs another unsure laugh. "I was real shocked when I found out he was your brother."

Castiel lays a hand on Dean's knee and waits for him to meet his gaze. Dean watches Castiel’s fingers slide comfortingly around the denim. He knows Cas wants him to look up at him, but he doesn’t know what he’ll find there.

"I appreciate you telling me all this."  Cas starts and shuffles closer. "But I still don't understand why you would think that I wouldn't want to be with you."

Dean’s gaze snaps up at him in surprise. "B-because of all those people y'know, wh-who touched me a-and I thought..." He struggles and sighs when his words fail him.

"You haven't kissed me in three days, Cas." He says quietly like that explains everything.

"I was giving you space." Castiel defends and _damn Sam_ for being right.

"But am I... I mean, do you still-..." He tries again, but gives up when he can’t express himself, shoulders sagging. 

"Dean, look at me." Castiel says. Dean obliges.

"Do you mean, are you still desirable?" Castiel encompasses the question he's trying to ask so easily.

Dean nods, and looks so small and helpless as he waits for Castiel to answer the question.

The hand on Dean's knee comes up to slide around the back of his neck and pull him in so Castiel can press their lips together.

"Do I still want you?" Castiel murmurs when he pulls back. He answers with another kiss, and crawls into Dean's lap, straddling his thighs.

"Do I still think you worthy of everything in the universe?" He whispers, and Dean's breathless but he wants to kiss Cas again because the hurt in his chest is lessening. Castiel pulls back to lean their foreheads together. His eyes are closed, he's breathing hard and there's a smile on his face.

Dean just stares and wonders how the hell he got so lucky.

"Your past is your past. Never think that there is _anything_ that will make me love you any less." Castiel says. He opens his eyes and pulls back a little before he goes cross-eyed.

"Besides-" He kisses Dean again and cards a hand through his hair. "-I thought your performance was _extremely_ arousing." Castiel smirks when Dean's eyes widen in surprise. "Am I allowed a session in the Champagne Room?" He teases, tilting his head to the side, the perfect look of innocence on his face.

Dean blushes at Cas’ words but runs his hands up under Castiel's shirt.

"I don't know-" he pretends. "-it does get pretty busy. Everyone wants a piece of this hot ass."

Castiel nips at his earlobe and growls, "Tough." He works his teeth against the skin under his jaw. "You're _mine_."

Dean barely holds back a gasp as Castiel sucks a hickey into the flesh lower down the column of his neck.

" _Always_." Dean confirms.

When he decides that he's had enough, he pushes Cas off gently, intertwines their hands and tugs him towards their bedroom. Castiel presses into him and slides a palm down his back and around his ass.

He tuts, and removes Castiel's hand. "Don't you know the rules?" He drags the chair over to place it in the middle of the room facing the mirror and walks Castiel backwards until he sits in it.

He bends forward at the waist, hands on the back of the seat, over Cas' shoulders, right into his space and murmurs, " _No touching_."

Castiel's jaw drops. "You're joking."

Dean shakes his head slowly, a smirk on his face. "Nope."

He saunters over to their ipod deck and looks for the right playlist. It doesn't take him long to find it. It's new and different - nothing that Dean usually listens to - but he thinks it's work.

The crooning fills the air immediately and he turns the bass up. A glance back at Cas reveals the man gripping his thighs in anticipation. His eyes are on Dean like he's hungry, gaze dark and teeth marking his bottom lip.

Dean closes his eyes and rolls his neck. He starts with a slow sway in his hips in time with the music. He runs his hands down his chest and walks around Cas, the man following after his every movement, and slides his palms across Cas' shoulders. He meets Cas' gaze in the mirror.

His palms slide over muscle, down Cas' chest and slip inside the material where the shirt's unbuttoned in the middle.

He grazes his teeth over Cas' ear, kisses the space under his ear and licks a stripe up his neck then blows lightly on the wet skin.

" _Dean_." Cas breathes.

"You want somethin', Cas?" He teases like doesn't already know.

Castiel nods.

He slides his palms out, going to stand in front of Cas, hips swaying, hands going to unbutton his shirt.

"What is it?"

Castiel watches his hands, taking in every piece of flesh he gets a chance to see.

"Tell me." Dean says and Cas' eyes flick up to meet his.

"...Wanna see you..." He answers, as expected.

Dean smirks, peels off the shirt and lets it drop to the ground.

He runs his palms down his naked chest and runs his thumbs around inside the hem of his jeans, and Castiel looks like he's starving.

"Is this enough?" He asks, walking towards his boyfriend. Castiel looks up at him. Dean runs his index finger down the side of his face.

The reply is instant. "No. I want _all_ of you."

Dean turns around and Cas has to lift his hands because he sits right down in Cas' lap. Evidence of Cas' arousal presses into Dean and he smiles smugly.

"Hm. I think it is." He rolls his hips and he can see Cas' eyes fall shut in the mirror when he tries to stifle a groan. His hands automatically fall to Dean's skin and he runs it down his back but before he can let them curve over his ass, Dean stands and turns around to face Castiel who whines at the loss of contact.

"If you're not gonna be a good boy, this isn't gonna work." Dean reprimands, fingers going to his belt.

"Don't make me tie you up."

The excitement in Cas' eyes at the mention tells Dean he would enjoy that. He unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops slowly.

"Next time, angel." He promises with a smile as he leans down and kisses Cas. "Hands by your sides."  

Castiel drops his arms by his sides so they hang.

"What do you think?" Dean asks, throwing a leg over Cas' lap to straddle him. "Think I can make you come like this?"

Castiel's breathing has quickened. "Want all of you." He pleads.

Dean tilts his head teasingly and throw his arms over Cas' shoulders like he did with Aaron.

"But you're so desperate for me already." Dean murmurs, kissing the underside of Cas' jaw then kissing down Cas' neck.  He rolls his hips and receives the moan he wants.

He slides his hands down the front of Cas's shirt until he reaches his belt.

"You wanna come, Cas?"

Castiel shakes his head no."Wanna see you first."

"But it'd be so easy..." Dean counters. "Make you feel so good, Cas."

" _Please_." Castiel asks so desperately and Dean decides to give in. He stands, turns away from Cas, and pushes his jeans down, making sure to bend over so his ass sticks out.

"Fuck, Dean." Castiel breathes when he realises Dean went commando today.

Cursing has never sounded so deliciously blasphemous coming from Cas' lips. "See somethin' you like?" He asks innocently, running a hand over the curve.

Castiel nods dumbly, blue eyes wide in awe.

"You wanna touch?"

" _God_ , yes."

Dean smirks. "You gonna make me feel good, Cas?" He asks innocently.

He straddles Cas again. " _You gonna fuck me_?" rolls off his tongue.  

Castiel moans and chases his lips and Dean lets himself be caught. He angles Cas' head to deepen the kiss and thinks _fuck it_.

"Touch me." He says in between kisses. "Cas, _touch me_."

The sensory overload is overwhelming. Immediately, Cas is everywhere. He runs his hands down his sides and under Dean's thighs and grips him there. He stands and lifts Dean at the same time, Dean automatically tightening his legs around Cas' waist.

"Too many clothes." Dean whines and pulls at Cas’ clothes.  

Cas lets him fall to the bed, his fingers desperate to feel flesh-on-flesh contact. They finally get Cas out of his clothes (Dean’s sure they ripped the shirt somewhere) when Dean reaches up into the bedside table for the necessities while Castiel takes the opportunity to trail his mouth down Dean’s torso, teething kisses into the skin hard enough that it will leave marks. Castiel looks forward to seeing the result of his work in the morning.

Dean drops his hands into Cas’ hair, fingers twisting into the brown locks when Cas decides to give him an impromptu blowjob.

"Fuck, Cas." He breathes, when Cas intertwines one of his hands in Dean’s free one. "You gotta st-stop. I’m gonna…" he trails off. Cas looks up to see Dean’s eyes are screwed shut and his head’s pressed back into the bed, taut line of his neck exposed and on display for the world to see.

Cas doesn’t like it.

A burst of territorial possessiveness flames up inside him. His lips pop when he releases Dean and crawls up his body to kiss him.

"You were right."

"About what?" Dean asks, gasping when Cas rakes his nails lightly down Dean’s side.

"I don’t like it." Cas presses his lips to Dean’s neck, cowardly hiding his face. "When they look at you." One kiss turns into a whole line as he works his way down Dean’s neck. "When they stare…" His teeth nip possessively into Dean’s flesh and the man arches. "and when they touch."

He lets go of Dean’s hand, trails it downwards and wastes no time in opening Dean up.

"Who cares about them?" Dean replies, breath hitching at the intrusion. " _I’m yours_." He breathes against Cas’ mouth and tightens his hold on Cas’ hand. "You wanna know something?" Castiel nods so he cards a hand through Cas hair and turns his head so his lips are pressed against Cas’ ear. "When I’m with them… I only _ever_ think about you." His confession elicits a loud moan because his boyfriend does something with his fingers that makes him hold onto Cas for dear life.

Castiel revels in the way he can play Dean like an instrument, gets off on it, the other man’s fingers clutch the bed sheet and he's grinding down into the pleasure.

"C'mon, Cas, please, I _need_ you." He begs. Dean hears the tear of a wrapper and then his breath is punched out of him because Cas is finally inside him. He scrabbles for purchase against Cas' skin - his nails leaving moon-shaped indents in Cas' biceps

A litany of praise tumbles from his mouth. He's not even sure exactly what he says, just knows that Cas is everywhere and he's so fucking glad they sorted this crap out because how the fuck did he think he could let this go.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" Cas is asking, breath hot against his collarbone, as he thrusts. "So fucking beautiful. _Fuck_." Cas answers his own question and Dean's sure he's not even coherent right now because they're both chasing release that's just around the corner. Cas grasps Dean’s hand again and holds it above his head against the mattress as he presses his face into Dean’s neck and kisses under his jaw to eliminate any space between them. It’s hot and dirty and desperation litters the air.  

" _I love you_." Castiel murmurs into Dean’s ear, lips pressed right against the skin, and that’s all it takes.

It’s not like they haven’t said it before.

This time just seems different. Seems _more_.

Castiel doesn’t move and Dean doesn’t push him.

They lie there in a post-orgasmic haze, Cas’ face is still hidden and Dean runs his free hand down Cas’ back in a comforting, affectionate motion.

The apartment is quiet; just the muffled noise of the traffic outside their window and the sound of their breathing intruding on the silence.

"I love you, too, Cas." Dean replies quietly.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never been to a strip club nor worked in one. All the information in the fic is based on things I've seen and read.  
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Title of fic is from [Wicked Games](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1OTWCd40bc)  
> The song in Dean's final strip is [The Party & The After Party](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qooQpZ-9jRU)
> 
> My Tumblr is [here](http://prettyboydean.tumblr.com), come say hi! :)


End file.
